I love wheel of fortune. When I was a toddler I was obsessed with the show. I used to run up to the TV and stand wavering in front of the screen in order to fill my peripheral vision with spinning color. I imagine it’s similar to a meth trip.


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When the wheel would come up and fill the screen I would place my hands on the glass and “spin the wheel” along with the contestants. I knew my letters somewhat, and hearing middle aged women scream their letter requests and then watch it magically appear on the board was like a second episode of Sesame Street that day.

One fateful day, as my parents were watching me watch wheel of fortune, an accident occurred. As I reached up for my turn to grab the wheel I somehow pulled the TV onto my face.





I laid there for a while, in shock. Presumably horrified, my parents pulled me out from under the TV and once they had established I had not died they put the TV back up on the stand. As soon as the commercial break was over, I continued to watch the Wheel of Fortune as if nothing had happened.





I betcha the media would be elated if all television viewers were as dedicated to viewing programs as I was. Having a television fall on my face as a child is one of many life excuses I use to justify the way I am.